So It Goes
by curdled-milk
Summary: Hot Blooded Woman. . . The real story of what came after. Did you really think there was a happy ending waiting? Complete
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I started this fic, I think over a year ago, in response to a request from a reader of my other fiction, who asked if I would please read this Korean manga (or whatever it's called in Korean) and write some fanfiction on it. Well, I read the thing all n volumes of it, and started to write my alternate ending. But then, after 2 chapters I set it aside and forgot all about it. I have since lost the computer that had the emails stored on it from the reader who requested this fiction. But I came across the fic recently and decided to finish it. It came out, a little different than I had intended. But here it is. And as ever, please note that I do not own HotBloodedWoman or any of the characters portrayed herein. Nor do I own the lyrics with which I start he chapters, those are by bob seger. Ok. Here we go. - - -

**So it Goes**

Chapter 1.

Teaser

_You always said, the cards would never do you wrong_

_The trick you said was never play the game too long_

_A gambler's share, the only risk that you would take_

_The only loss you could forsake_

_The only bluff you couldn't fake _

It is a bar like any other, a little more upscale than some, catering to younger crowds. College kids mainly, a few uppity high school seniors, A few desperate salarymen, thinking that college girls are easy lays. The usual. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

For example, seated over there: two youngish gentlemen. Nineteen, maybe twenty? Good looking, the both of them: one seeming a wee bit bookish with his stylish glasses and serious expression, lit as it is, every once in a while, with an infectious smile, his guileless eyes mirroring his every mood. The other, more wild, but cuter, with sharply angled features, and the longest eyelashes you've ever seen. Hairstyle a bit dated. Who wears a rattail anymore? They could be a gay couple-- nothing wrong with that, these days, nothing special at all. They could be out trolling for girls, like so many of the other clusters of men, too shy to approach the objects of their desires. Yes, perfectly ordinary. Until they start to speak.

Well ok, maybe they aren't so ordinary after all.

Maybe they never were.

"That wasn't how it happened, you know."

"What wasn't?"

"Don't play dumb. I know you still keep in touch. You should remember to close your email when you're not at the computer."

A shrug

"Or perhaps you do it deliberately. It doesn't matter."

Silence. It could have been agreement. It could have been the tacit equivalent of 'smile and nod.'

"My last three girlfriends looked like her."

"I noticed." Dryly.

"Oh yeah. I forgot. Thanks, by the way."

"You've got to stop breaking your toys. There's only so many times your family's going to cover for you."

"Whine, whine, whine. What are you, my conscience? Besides, it's not like I killed them or anything."

"Still. . . "

"Yeah, funny isn't it? You know, when she was. . . not herself. . . I couldn't do a thing to hurt her body. I know every scar, how she got every single one, I can catalogue all her broken bones over the years. Even now. She was. . . is. . . beautiful. She Was perfect. . . But hurting that other, it was so easy. Why is that, do you think? It was her, and no one else, despite the clear skin, the straight and fragile bones. Beauty. Hah! Aram was fucking flawless perfection compared to Ha Ji. But I never wanted to punish Ha Ji the way I did Aram. Even though. . ."

"Even though the soul was what really mattered."

"Yeah, or whatever."

Silence. The faint glow of embers, the swirl of smoke in the dim air. A background of heavy bass, so deep as to be more subliminal than heard. A shaking felt in the bones, and a thrumming in the heart.

"Whiskey tastes like shit. Why do I drink this crap?"

"It goes with the cigarettes."

"Oh yeah."

Around them, a swirl of activity, people coming and going. But somehow never quite seeming to pierce their zone of silence. Unusual that. Normally two such attractive men would be swarmed with admirers. But not tonight. Tonight something in their posture, or in their attitude served as enough of a warning. Only the very foolish or drunk would dare approach.

"That wasn't how it happened."

"You said that already. Care to elaborate?"

"The villa by the ocean."

"Which part?"

"I told her she wasn't attractive, that even half naked, she did nothing for me."

"And. . . ?"

"The truth. I wanted her so badly it hurt. But that would have destroyed the whole point."

"You wanted her to remain a child."

"I created her. I taught her everything. I shaped her in every way. A perfect picture of innocence."

"Stupidity."

"You and I both know she was never as dumb as she seemed."

"But loyal."

"As loyal as I." Wry (or was it bitter) twist of the lips, "In my own special way." A pause. "I wanted her to remain that way for ever. She made me laugh as nothing else could. She was sunshine. "

"She was the childhood you never had."

"And just as ephemeral."

"While we learned interrogation techniques."

"The myriad uses for pain."

"She made you smile."

"Perfect. . . Until He came along."

"You have really got to stop carrying grudges like that."

"Eh. He was as much a victim as I. I still hate his self-righteously smarmy guts though."

"You're whining."

"He made her change. He ruined the perfection. . . The look in her eyes when she talked about him, when she said his name. . . It should have been me."

"It's your own fault, you know." Pushing on, ignoring the warning signs of anger in his companion. "You made her that way. You told her she lacked feminine charm, that no man would ever find her attractive. You told her that no self-respecting jjang even thought of sex, much less had relationships. And you, you were her knight in shining armor. Even if she had been capable of imagining you as her lover, she would have suppressed it. For you. To be what you wanted her to be. She could never have chosen you. Not like that."

For a second it looked as though the other man might explode. Like ticking of a time bomb, as the seconds passed. The cigarette burned slowly down. Smoke wisped from flared nostrils, as wide eyes grew stony and hard. One heart beat and then another, mental bands of control all that kept the internal fires from bursting forth. Of course, Jeong Hyeop was correct. What else could infuriate him so?

"Everyone else thought for years that we were a couple."

"Everyone else, is not Ha Ji."

"She was my toy. Mine to corrupt. Mine to break!"

"She wasn't your toy."

"As much mine as I was hers."

"Not that, either."

"I could have taught her everything."

"You chose not to."

"I wanted the impossible."

"And then it was too late."

"She would have been better off dead. Forever perfect. Forever mine." Savagely, the twisted gleam in the steely eyes emphasizing the truth of his words. He'd thrown her off the roof once. He should have done the job right.

"You couldn't have lived with yourself then."

"I wouldn't have wanted to."

A conversation killer that, even among two old friends. Two comrades-in-arms. Closer than brothers. The memories still rubbed them raw after all this time.

At last, a ventured question. "Why so philosophical tonight? It's been over a year since that night. What's done is done. The past is dead and gone. Childhood days are over. We're in college now. Isn't it time your role became your reality? Why can't you forget for real?"

A raised eyebrow. The deliberate motion of graceful fingers as he stubs out his cigarette. Lights a fresh one. Stares off into the ceiling. Lazy half-smile twitching up the edges of his thin lips.

"It's fun."

A sigh. He's being a stubborn child again. College isn't really all that different from high school after all.

"Come on, let's go home."

"Not yet."

"Why not? Haven't you smoked enough yet to mask the taste of your drink? Come on, drink it down so we can leave."

Ignored. Deliberately. Again. Look deeper, beneath the surface. He's off in his own little world. Small wonder that. He never liked this one very much. There only ever was one thing keeping him here. Well two, if you counted the punishment his family doled out when he tried to escape. Though look how well that turned out. Functional member of the family, hah, that's one thing he'll never be. And the other. . Everyone knows how well that little divertissement worked. If you can call years of deceit a 'little' diversion. The game was hardly little. In the end, it might have been everything . .

"We're waiting." At last, an answer. Drawled out as if it didn't matter.

"For what?" In genuine puzzlement.

In answer, a tilt of the head, as if trying to remember. A final puff of this last cigarette. A graceful sweep of the arm. The motion taking in the crowded bar, encompassing the clusters of activity around them, scenes that he had been seeming to ignore all evening. Perhaps the gesture was an abstract reference, or perhaps it delineated something very specific and concrete. Han Seo wasn't saying. Letting Jeong Hyeop draw his own conclusions from what he, himself, could see. The word, when spoken at last, displayed a heavy sort of finality, the sort you build tombs with, that kind of heavy.

"That."

ToBeContinued.


	2. Chapter 2

**So It Goes**

Chapter 2

Engagement

_And you're still the same_

_I caught up with you yesterday_

_Moving game to game _

_No one standing in your way_

Jeong Hyeop looked. Across the dim room, veiled in a smoky haze, people moved about in seemingly aimless patterns; the Brownian motion inherent in any crowded room. Here and there, individuals came together like molecules colliding, separated again after brief exchange of come-on and rejection. Elsewhere, groups of girls fought against the flow, singling out one man or another for their attentions. Scattered couples conversed in low tones, separating only long enough to return to the bar for a fresh round of drinks. What was there here worth seeing?

Oh. There.

He sighed dismally, as the shifting movement of the throng brought one particular couple into focus like a curtain opening on a stage. The actors, already in place, prepared to play their parts. In pantomime, of course, for who could hear voices across the babble of other conversations, the pulse of the music?

On the one side, the man; an annoyed look on his angular face. Sharp features, irregularly cropped black hair gleaming even in this clouded and indirect lighting. Irritation somehow seemed to suit him well. A fortunate thing, that, as his weary gestures and tired eyes suggested that this particular discussion was no uncommon thing.

On the other hand, the girl-- shorter than her boyfriend-- for a couple they plainly were, yet still tall for a girl. Her unruly mop of hair bounced with every exaggerated movement. Her rapidly moving mouth suggested that she was probably screaming. Hands on her hips clenched to fists. Not a happy camper.

Shit Shit and Shit again. Jyeong Hyeop lowered his forehead into his hand, and stared dismally at the condensation rings on the tabletop in front of him.

"You knew they were here." It wasn't a question, and he didn't expect a response. "How long have you been following her?"

"Shh. . ." Han Seo smiled secretively, "You're missing the best part. Watch."

Reluctantly, Jyeong Hyeop looked up again, just in time to see Ha Ji, radiating fury, throw her drink into Sin Uoo's scowling face.

"Haha! Isn't that great?" Han Seo slapped his knee in exaggerated amusement.

"What are you doing?" Jyeong Hyeop wearily rubbed his hand across his forehead, "I thought you'd given up on her, remember -- not so innocent anymore? Not the toy you wanted?"

In lieu of reply, Han Seo cocked an arch eyebrow, and lit a fresh cigarette.

"Come on. You knew they were here. Why are you showing me this?"

"You're missing the rest of the show."

"Fuck the 'show!' Don't do this man, Let's just go home." Dreading the words he could see Han Seo had trapped behind his glittering teeth, his stone cold eyes. Knowing them anyway. The reason they were here tonight. Even down to the dangerous smile, the seductively lowered lashes, that Han Seo would have manifested, declaring in deceptively dulcet tones, "I changed my mind." Jyeong Hyeop could see it in his mind's eye, could feel the truth freezing in his bones. Praying not again. He couldn't go through this again. Not after the last time; the first time; and, he had hoped, the only time.

"A few more minutes." Han Seo demurred. "Just a few." He knew what he was waiting for. And soon enough, there it was; the reason they were stationed here at this particular table, in this certain location. Ha Ji, throwing her hands up at the argument. Storming off to the bathroom-- which, it so happened, was down a narrow hallway off to the side a little ways past where the two men were sitting. "She does this every time." Han Seo confided silkily, his eyes never leaving the girl pushing through the crowded room; getting nearer with every passing second.

Nearer she may have gotten, but true to her word to leave the purportedly amnesiac Han Seo be, Ha Ji ignored him. Pretended not to see. Just as she had done every time she saw him here. Did she like it? No, of course not. But she'd known, a year ago when Jeong Hyeop had snapped at her, that he was right. She couldn't have them both, not the way they wanted her. Nor could she forget the truth about Han Seo, his ruthless violence, his cruelty, his lies. So she acted as if they were the strangers she believed Han Seo thought them to be.

Perhaps they really were.

Still, her jaw clenched as she fought the urge to turn her head, to make eye contact. Wasn't it bad enough that her relationship with Sin Uoo hadn't turned out the way she wanted it to be? The way she somehow believed it would; perfect, eternal, as if mandated by some celestial decree. Oh yeah, the passion was there all right, the fiery burning need, the hunger for his touch, the longing for his voice. But, the flip side; his embarrassment over her manners, her crudity, her lack of femininity. The shame he felt at the way she drew attention in a crowd. The way she stood out everywhere they went; and not in a good way. Oh, he tried to hide it, sometimes. He didn't really want to hurt her. After all, she knew he loved her as much as she adored him. But that wasn't really the point.

Sometimes; times like now; times that somehow seemed to occur with increasing frequency; he'd snap. Some little word or deed, some innocent comment that she'd made, would set him off, in a fit of rage. He'd tell her she wasn't fit to be seen in public. That she was making a scene. Ha! And how did he expect her to react to that, huh? Ha Ji fumed. She hadn't been brought up to take such things lightly. She once had been a respected jjang. Surely she still deserved a little respect, especially from her boyfriend.

Sadly, she wasn't good with words. Never had been. He'd go off on ridiculous tangents. She was lost after the first few sentences. She fought back the only way she knew how; with action. Things would get ugly; he would sulk, incapable of laughing it off, as she would have. His, a slow burning grudge, hers a brief hot flare. It didn't go well. Not at all.

Ha Ji stumbled, fought tears. Shit, how she hated to cry. It made her feel weak, even if it was a woman's most potent weapon. She'd fled this most recent fight, (and don't even ask what it was over, she couldn't have told you) hoping that a trip to the ladies' room would give her (and him) a chance to cool down, to forget the words that had been spoken.

Hope springs eternal, right? Yeah.

But then, the kicker, to make such a stellar evening even more perfect. Ha Ji just had to look up at just the wrong moment, catching the wide-eyed, startled gaze of Jeong Hyeop. She couldn't pretend to not see him too, now could she? Not when they still exchanged email regularly. Admittedly, it tended to be fairly superficial messages, these days, as they both avoided mention of, well, sensitive, topics; namely Han Seo and Sin Uoo. But still, by normal standards they considered themselves to be friends, so she couldn't just pass him by; looking away and pretending that she hadn't noticed him sitting there. Of course, the problem now; Han Seo, sitting across from Jeong Hyeop, a cigarette casually slung between two fingers, gazing off across the room with an enigmatic smile on his narrow face.

Shit Shit Shit and Damn. Ha Ji's thoughts unconsciously echoing Jeong Hyeop's at that moment. Unable to break eye contact, she waved, and pretended to smile, as she hastily wiped half-formed tears from her eyes. Decided to do her best to ignore Han Seo's presence.

"Hey, Jeong Hyeop. Long time no see. How goes?" A bit awkward, not like her usual brash openness, sidelong glances flung at Han Seo's serenely distant expression, only his narrowed eyes giving the lie to the nonchalance.

"Not Bad. Heard you finally graduated. Congrats. Knew you'd manage to get out of high school eventually." Well, he had had his doubts; before he'd realized that she wasn't quite the chicken-brain she seemed.

"Thanks. But you know, I had to do it-- the Director would've kicked my ass to hell and back if I hadn't passed all my classes." Yah, her mom and Sin Uoo both, but she couldn't say that here. "What're you up to these days?"

"You know, the usual. University, and stuff." He gave an airy wave to indicate the unimportance of it all. Couldn't exactly tell her the truth; the family business he and Han Seo were frequently called upon to take care of. And besides, the duller he sounded, the sooner she'd lose interest and go away. Or so he hoped-- counting on her obvious discomfort to speed the retreat.

"Sounds ever so exciting." Not in the least, but she knew she wasn't going to get the truth from him, not now, and certainly not here. "Look I gotta run, catch you later, 'K?" Ha Ji's gaze flicked skittishly towards Han Seo, and back to Jeong Hyeop, before she summoned up a credible impression of her usual sunny self, "Call me sometime. We should hang out, grab a pizza or something." A hint of wistfulness, "Like in the old days." When life had seemed so simple; when her faith in the goodness of people had been unshakeable. Ah well. Even she knew that childhood couldn't have lasted forever.

"Yeah Sure." Jyeong Hyeop nodded absently, insincerely, peering at her over the rim of his glasses. Watching her turning to leave their table, feeling his shoulders hunch with tension, wondering why Han Seo had remained so quiet thus far. Waiting for the shoe to fall. As, of course, he knew it would.

"Aren't you going to say hello to me, Ha Ji Kang?" Han Seo spoke, like warm silk, purring at the girl's retreating back.

A reflex it was, like lightening strike. Inescapable Pavlovian response. She pivoted on her heel, a pounding uppercut already in motion, "I told you never to use my full name, you Shithead!" Not remembering, before she spoke, that he wasn't even supposed to remember her, much less want her attention.

Han Seo laughed, blocked her lunge with an almost casual gesture, catching her wrist in an iron grip. "Now, is that any way to greet an old friend? Truly, I'm disappointed."

Widening eyes, like a deer in the headlights. Shock, confusion, realization passing through those big brown eyes.

Han Seo blew an elegant wreath of smoke from his slanted smile, waiting for her next play.

The game had begun again.

And this time, withdrawal was not an option.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**So It Goes**

Chapter 3

Emotion

_Turning on the charm _

_Long enough to get you by _

_You're still the same_

_You still aim high_

"You. . . You remembered." Guileless eyes wide, not sure if she should be happy, as she once would have been, or afraid. To be afraid, to carry a grudge for all the times he'd tried to harm her just wasn't in her nature. Still, she couldn't exactly summon up joy at this moment, either.

"Actually," Han Seo archly lofted one feathery eyebrow, "I never forgot. For many things, I have a terrible memory." He waved a seemingly negligent hand (the one that wasn't locked around her wrist) in dismissal, "For example, I wouldn't be able to tell you the name of my last girlfriend. . . What was it anyway?" He slanted the question at Jeong Hyeop.

"Yeowon?"

"Oh yeah. Whatever. But when it comes to you, Ha Ji, I remember everything." His eerily gentle smile would have sent chills of fear coursing through the veins of a lesser woman, especially given the steely cool of his watchful eyes. Ha Ji, however, was not such a one to be intimidated, and most certainly not when she was already having a bad night.

"What the fuck?" She swore wrenching her wrist free from his hard fingers. "What game is this, you shithead? Why did you lie to me? It's a damned good things we're not friends anymore, otherwise, I might have to hate you." Blunt and to the point.

"That's my girl." He stubbed out his cigarette, allowing his relaxed posture to slowly grow more alert, more interested.

"I'm not your anything." She could feel her fists clenching, itching to hit something. Anything. Hard. Sin Uoo had been trying to train her to be less violent; said her way of settling things with her fists was juvenile and embarrassing. But at least it was straightforward. And hell did it feel good sometimes.

"Maybe not." Han Seo lowered his eyes as if in considered thought. Long eyelashes veiling that intensely steely gaze. "And how's that going for you? Got lover-boy over there trained to your command, have you?"

"You know he's not." Ha Ji glared.

"You noticed!" tones of mocking joy. "I'm so glad to see we've decided to be honest for once."

"Ha Ji, please!" Jeong Hyeop, intervening in the nick of time, to prevent Ha Ji from launching herself at Han Seo's throat.

"Some things never change."

"And some things do. Let me go, Jeong Hyeop." He did, and she stood back, arms crossed tensely, as if to prevent herself from lashing out. "What do you really want, Han Seo?"

"Ah! I do love a woman who comes straight to the point." Clapping his hands in an imitation of puerile enthusiasm. The clapping ending abruptly as his tone sobered, "We need to have a talk."

"A talk?" Ha Ji pretended innocence. Or maybe it wasn't even an act, "Now?" Looking over her shoulder. "I have to get back to Sin Uoo."

"Loverboy can wait." Han Seo sneered nastily, "I've waited forever." With the smooth motion of a striking snake, he lunged from out of his seat, grabbed Ha Ji's arms, pinned them behind her back, all before she could even react. "Now, now," he whispered in her ear, his soft breath tickling like some caricature of seduction, "You can kick all you want, but all it'll earn you is a broken arm." He twisted savagely, as if to demonstrate just how willing he was to hurt her. "Now, unlike that bastard over there," a deliberate jerk of his head, "I don't care if we make a scene. So go ahead, fight me. But I can tell, you've grown soft. . . too busy fucking to train, eh?" Was it illusion, or did more than a hint of bitterness cloud his tone, "Well, I haven't been neglecting my training. And unless you can make me laugh, there's no way you're going to win this."

"I know that!" she'd always known he was better than she, after all. "But I can scream for Sin Uoo."

"You never let anyone else fight your battles. Not the Ha Ji I know." Triumph colored his voice. He could feel her muscles flexing and straining against his grasp, the frantic desperation, as she tried to free herself. "Tell you what, you come with me, we have our little talk, then we can beat the shit out of each other, just like we used to. How does that sound?"

"Haven't you outgrown that yet?" Her tone was spiteful

"When did you learn to be such a bitch? Ah well, You don't fool me for a second. Come on." He pushed her forward, none too gently, at that. "Jeong Hyeop. Get us a private room, will you?"

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" A bit nervously. Not wanting his two friends to hurt each other any more.

"Perfectly, and watch the door will you? Don't want to be interrupted by loverboy over there. Now do we?"

Reluctantly, Jeong Hyeop bowed his head, and left to do Han Seo's bidding, as obedient as he'd ever been.

Roughly, Han Seo force-marched Ha Ji after Jeong Hyeop, and into the private lounge, that he'd soon procured. A swift kick slammed the door shut behind them, a twist and shove to send Ha Ji staggering away from him, and Han Seo relaxed, settling back into one of the deep couches lining the wall even as Ha Ji spun to face him, daggers in her glare.

"Would you like something to drink? Eat?" Han Seo tried out the old line with an ironic twist of his lips.

"Beer." Ha Ji crossed her arms sulkily, pacing across the small room, "Also some snacks. Please." added almost as an afterthought.

"Aren't you afraid I might poison you?" A speculative narrowing of his eyes as he lazily stood up and spoke the order through the door to the waiting Jeong Hyeop.

"I didn't have dinner." Ha Ji shrugged, as if that explained everything. For her it probably did.

"Of course." Han Seo stretched back out on the couch, running his eyes up and down the pacing figure in front of him, as if trying to memorize every angle, every curve; as if his eyes could devour her, find sustenance in the sight of her for his starving soul. Absentmindedly, he lit a fresh cigarette and inhaled deeply, buying himself time to collect suddenly scattered thoughts.

But Ha Ji was having none of it, "You wanted to talk. So Talk." She demanded, glancing unhappily at the closed door.

"Of course," Han Seo repeated, "Of course, I lied. I don't really want to talk. What good would that do?"

"What do you mean?" Ha Ji blinked in confusion, relaxing, almost against her will in his old familiar presence.

"Oh come now!" He laughed, harshly, "I thought we were being honest now! Don't play dumb! Don't make that face! Yes that one!" he was shouting now, and he didn't care, "How many years did you look up at me like that? Empty, Agreeable, Stupid. Dense as a fucking lead brick! Trusting! Why did you do that? Why do you do that still! Manipulative Bitch!" It came out more as a plea then a demand. Shaking fingers brought his cigarette back to his lips, a raspingly harsh breath as Ha Ji continued to look on in confusion, "Talk! Don't make me laugh. What did talk ever get us? Nothing but lies. A game that never ended. Talk! Ha! Let's fight!" he leapt from the couch, and assumed a combat stance.

In contrast, Ha Ji, who had, just seconds before, been tensed up and ready for violence, relaxed suddenly, and sat down abruptly on the floor. Perhaps the first time in her life that she'd refused a duel. "What's this really about?" Her voice was sad as she looked down at the floor, "You and I both know now, our fights were no more real than all the myths you told me. Why did you do that? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why did you make me feel so dumb?" Now it was she who was pleading, her questions echoing his own, "I always wondered why I had no friends. You told me it was because a jjang was supposed to be lonely. I wondered why other girls had admirers but I did not. You told me it was because I was ugly and unattractive. You said a jjang wasn't allowed to have relationships. I never understood. Why? I believed in you. I trusted you. But all of it was always a lie."

"The training was no lie." He interrupted quietly.

"Even that.' Ha Ji disagreed, still refusing to look up at him, but brandishing her left arm as a memento, "You never taught me to fight the way you do." The scars from her broken wrist had long since faded; the memories had not. And when she next spoke, her voice was cold, "You never taught me to fight dirty. To cripple your opponent before the fight, to weaken their resolve by destroying what they most hold dear. . ."

"And Sin Uoo was any better?" Furiously, "As I recall, he tried many of the same things I did, rape, murder, mutilation. . . And that wrist of yours, you think I wanted to hurt you? That was all his plan, too. Yet you forgave him. You fucking fell in love with the bastard, while he was trying to kill you!"

". . . I forgave you too. . ." It was hardly a whisper.

"But you never loved me." Flat, cold. An accusation.

"You never taught me how. You taught me everything else. But I never knew how to love."

"You loved him just fine!"

"I was so ashamed." Now tears were trickling down her cheeks, "I thought I'd let you down. . ."

"You had."

". . .I didn't know what love was, until he showed me. . ."

"I knew then . . .."

". . . And Then I knew. . . "

". . .I wanted you all to myself. . ."

". . .That I loved you too. . ."

". . . But it was too late. . ."

". . .But it was too late. . ."

". . .I'd already lost you. . ."

". . . You weren't who I thought you were. . ."

". . . You became someone that I didn't know . . ."

". . .You became someone that I didn't know. . . "

At last, they spoke in synchrony, ". . .You never were."

"But I would have loved you anyway!" as if in refutation.

"Not the way you loved him!"

"The way I thought you wanted me to!"

"You always were an idiot." And suddenly, he was standing over her, fists clenched at his side.

"You're as much to blame! Why don't you take some responsibility?"

"I do. Every single fucking day." He glared down at her, as if his gaze could pin her to the floor, "But I intend to remedy that. Right now. And then you'll never again be able to say, you didn't know what I wanted."

"What do you mean?" Now her eyes were wide, suspicious. No blank look of stupidity there. He could have gazed into those eyes forever, caught by her clarity.

He couldn't let himself be trapped like that. Han Seo needed control. He was the player of games. Not the pawn here. Abruptly he lashed out, one heavy fist swinging, knocking her own defense aside, impacting with the side of her skull. The pain of broken knuckles, the knowledge of a job well done.

Han Seo watched, a feeling like tears in his eyes, as Ha Ji slumped unconscious to the ground. "I should have killed you then, I should have killed myself." Bitterly, he wiped a trembling hand across his face. "It never gets any better than this." She was his drug, his addiction, and he craved her like salvation. She was his apotheosis and his ruin. She was beautiful.

Han Seo crouched down next to the unconscious girl. He hadn't hit her that hard, with her constitution, she'd be up within minutes. He doubted she'd even have a concussion. But a few minutes was all he needed. Han Seo leaned over, brushed his hand across Ha Ji's downy cheek, traced the curve of her jaw with one nicotine-stained finger, leaned closer in, the finger gently outlining the scars from where she'd broken her nose, where she'd been kicked in the forehead, caught a set of brass knuckled across her cheek bone. His breath rasped through his throat, his heart pulsing as though it would explode. He knew this catalogue of scars, each and everyone. He reached out, lifted her arm, eyes searching, scanning, this blemish and that, all the way to her once fractured wrist. Han Seo brought it closer, brushed his lips across her skin, the salty taste of her sweat lingering on his tongue.

Just this once, and damn the consequences, he would worship her the way she should have been. His creation; his wayward doll.

For he knew, he could never move on. She had his heart and always would. He couldn't be any more damned. For all the times he'd tried and failed to take her. For all the pain and hurt and hate. For the blood, and the violence, and the words it hurt him to say. All the life that he could not forget. He could take none of it back, And he was damned.

Han Seo shuddered. The one girl who hurt him more than any punishments his family could devise. She would be the death of him. He would be the death of her. Gently, he ran his fight-scarred hands down her arms, down her ribs, and down to her waist. Trembling fingers unbuttoned her blouse, pulled it away, used it to bind her wrists above her head. He heard her first moan as he impatiently cut through her bra with the switchblade he always carried.

"Rape again?" She almost hid the tremor in her groggy voice, "Haven't you anything new to try?"

"Shh. . ." Han Seo reached out one iron-muscled arm to more firmly pin down the now-squirming girl.

"He'll come for me." Ha Ji promised, trying to get her foot around to kick him in the crotch. "He always does."

"I taught you to save yourself." Han Seo frowned savagely, ripped her skirt off in one impatient jerk. He didn't want to hear about Sinn Uoo, "Don't tell me you're so weak now, you can't even throw off one man."

"Not when that one man is you." She glared defiantly up at her attacker, as if unfazed that she was now naked beneath his burning gaze.

"You could at least try." He couldn't hide the melancholy in his voice as he turned away,

"And give you the satisfaction? Ha! I don't think so."

"Satisfaction? What do you know of satisfaction, little girl? What do you know of me?" Han Seo turned back, his free hand reaching out to cup Ha Ji's breast roughly. "Does this give you satisfaction? It doesn't me. Or do you want this?" the hand descending between her thighs. "I didn't think so." He pulled his hand away, "But this. . ." tracing a long jagged scar down her ribs. From being beaten with a bat, "Do you remember this?" He leaned in closer, dusting feather light kisses behind the tracing of his fingertips, "You fought gloriously, and won. "Or this?" a small blemish on her shoulder, where she'd once landed on broken glass, "Have you learned to watch where you fall?" he kissed it as well. And on. The catalogue of her body. She'd never known that he'd memorized every scar, every inch so well. And when he began to work his way up from her crookedly healed toe, to the patchwork of her knees, to the battle scars of her thighs, she almost forgot to breathe. Her struggling had long since lapsed, and it was only in the distant back of her mind that she wondered where Sinn Uoo was, and why he hadn't found her yet.

"No new scars." Han Seo whispered huskily, looking up at Ha Ji from between her parted legs, "I knew you saved yourself for me."

Ha Ji shuddered, suddenly afraid once ore of the violence in his tone. She'd been lulled as it were, by his breathy recital, by his fingers and lips on her skin, by the way he knew her so intimately. Knew her body better than Sinn Uoo ever could, no matter how often they made love.

"You forgot one." Ha Ji raised her chin proudly, refusing to be cowed.

"No I didn't." Han Seo shook his head, lay himself down along side of her, dragged his hand slowly up, along the swell of her belly and up the ladder of her ribs, to end where it had begun, cupping her breast, "I saved the best for last."

The secretly bleeding wound of her broken heart.

No one was supposed to know.

But how could he forget, when it beat in such agonizing counterpoint to his own?

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**So It Goes**

Chapter 4

Inevitability

_There you stood, everybody watched you play _

_I just turned and walked away _

_I had nothing left to say _

_'Cause you're still the same_

"I've lived with his ghost for a year. And the damned man isn't even dead!" That, don't you know, is what Sin Uoo was thinking every time he snapped at Ha Ji, every single damn time they fought. It was what he was thinking now.

He couldn't help himself. It wasn't that he was embarrassed over her behavior. No. That was what made her who she was. It was just that, when she spoke a certain way, her attitude, a gleam he could see in her eye, it would remind him. She had been trained, moulded, formed, in this way or in that way, unnaturally, like some fantastical human topiary. In so many ways, she was Han Seo's creation, and nobody else's. She had been created in ways he could not touch. Sinn Uoo had her for now, and he believed her love for him was strong and true. But still and yet, yet and still, in every nuance, or lack thereof, he was reminded of Han Seo, and he would snap at her. He wanted these reminders to be erased, but he knew, that to erase her self in such a way, would be to destroy all the things he loved about her.

Sometimes, Sinn Uoo thought he was in hell, and wondered what he had done in life to deserve such torment. To love and to hate, and to never forget that which he hated. Sinn Uoo knew how to carry a grudge.

Sometimes, he wished he were dead. Sometimes, he wished she were dead. He wished she had never existed. He wished Aram had remained only Aram until the day she died, and that Ha Ji had remained Ha Ji. Perhaps he would not have found love, brief moments of happiness then, but nor would he have watched her die, have found her again, have fought for and won her, a truly Pyrrhic victory.

And some nights, the guilt ate at him alive, wondering how she could love him, after all the things he'd done to her. And some nights he hated her, for loving him despite all the things that he'd done. Some nights, he lay awake, wondering how she could forgive Han Seo, and if she loved him still. Some nights, he wanted to die.

Sinn Uoo, stood in alone, in a crowded club, the drink Ha Ji had upended, dripping down his face. He wondered, as the alcohol stung his eyes, if this is how Ha Ji felt when she cried. Frustration, longing, despair. The love so strong it burned him up inside.

She would return. He would apologize and take her home. The make-up sex would be fantastic, and he would revel in it for all he was worth, reminding himself, that this one thing, this side of her, it was his alone. Han Seo had had no part in this. And it would suffice, until the next time. And the time after that.

He wondered when his fractured heart would break.

Sinn Uoo took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, wiped his shaggy bangs off of his damp face, and checked his watch. Damnit, she should have returned by now.

And that was when he saw it. Him. The man approaching through the crowd, subtly parting it, yet remaining almost invisible in his self-deprecating way. Jeong Hyeop. Han Seo's axeman, his right hand, his only friend. The chill that ran down Sinn Uoo's spine at that moment was a blast of pure adrenaline into his heart.

The moment he dreaded, expected, longed for, feared had come.

He had always known it wasn't over.

It was as if reality froze, shifted, began again.

"Let the games begin." A challenge issued in the silence of his own mind. While on the outside, he realigned his features into an icy glare, with which to greet Jeong Hyeop.

"You."

"We need to talk." Jeong Hyeop remained imperturbable, his gentle features perfectly schooled.

"Where is He?"

"You mean, 'Where are they?'"

"What has he done to her? I'll kill him this time." Already Sinn Uoo could feel the burning rage building up inside. The frustration and the hurt that he would just love to take out on someone, anyone, but most of all, on Han Seo.

"I don't know." Jeong Hyeop lied. "They left the club." He shrugged slightly and gave a small, self-deprecating half-smile, "I'm sorry, I truly am. I had hoped that all of this was over. He's been so good all year. I guess I should have known." Slowly, he began leading Sinn Uoo out of the club.

"You hoped." Sinn Uoo snorted, "I knew better. Why are you telling me this now?" He never trusted the other man, How could he, knowing who he was, and what his Family did?

"My only goal," Jeong Hyeop shrugged, "Is to serve as best I may. Come with me."

"Your loyalty is admirable, if wasted on that snake."

"Nothing freely given is ever wasted," Jeong Hyeop replied mildly, as he escorted Sinn Uoo out into the street. "Ahh. . . don't you love the fresh air. It's such a beautiful night." He didn't even blink when Sinn Uoo struck, tired of this obvious delaying tactic, slamming Jeong Hyeop against the wall, a hand at his throat.

"No games. Where is she?" the words unspoken, _and what has he done?_

"I don't really know." Still Jeong Hyeop remained curiously unfazed by Sinn Uoo's violence. After all, he put up with Han Seo on a daily basis. This was nothing compared to his friend's temper. "Honestly, I didn't know that he was planning anything, until this evening. You know, he hasn't confided in me, his plans for her, since that time last year."

"Shit." Sinn Uoo jerked back, dropping his rip on Jeong Hyeop. "What did he say?"

"He was bored."

"That's it?" Plainly disbelieving

". . . because it's fun." The words that said it all.

"Shit!" explosively. Sinn Uoo clenched his fists in frustration. "It never ends, does it? Never goes away? I see him in her every smile. He lives in side her eyes. I thought he'd given her up. She agreed to do the same! Damnit, she loves me!"

"She loves him too."

"But he threw her away."

"He would have died for her."

"That's It! Fuck, I would have died for her."

"No, you wouldn't." Jeong Hyeop shook his head, "You would kill for her. You'd like to kill me now."

"And you? Did you come here to kill me?" Suddenly wary again, suddenly suspicious.

"I thought about it." Jeong Hyeop smiled then, carefully removing empty hands from his pockets and spreading them in an elaborate show of weaponlessness. "Honestly, It might have been for the best. But I am loyal."

"And Han Seo doesn't want me dead?" Skeptically.

"If he wanted you dead, you'd be dead now."

"How would you know? You said it yourself, he doesn't confide in you."

"Because you can't die, until he's won." Jeong Hyeop looked away, his smile turning down at the edges, as if he'd said too much.

"Won what?"

"Everything.' Still Jeong Hyeop would not meet his eyes.

"What more does he need?" it was almost a tone of despair, "He's got her heart, as much as I do. She'll never see me without thinking of him."

"That just means you've lost." Jeong Hyeop's voice was bleaker than Sinn Uoo felt. "It doesn't mean that he's won."

"Then what does?"

"She has to admit it."

"Admit what?"

"That it should have been him."

"The hell it should have!"

"You're welcome to your opinion."

"Where are they?"

"All in good time."

"Now! Or I call for reinforcements."

Deliberately casual, he glanced at his watch. "Now's as good a time as any." As if resigned to his fate. "Come one." Back into the club.

Even Sinn Uoo had to bark a laugh at how easily he'd been manipulated. How good Jeong Hyeop really was at the game.

"It's not a game, you know." As if reading his mind.

"No?" sarcastically.

"No. Life is not a prize. Not a token to be gambled away."

"Does Han Seo agree?"

"Does it matter?"

"I suppose not." A pause. "I never knew you were so philosophical."

Jeong Hyeop carefully didn't say, _that's because you never knew me_. Instead, he replied, "In my profession, you need to be philosophical. It's not easy making a man beg for mercy, or spill his guts without, you know, breaking him completely. Torture is all in the attitude. It's very Zen."

"And I thought Han Seo was crazy."

"We're here." Stopping abruptly. "Are you sure you want to interrupt?"

Sinn Uoo didn't bother with a response, simply snarled, and pushed past, ready to kill or maim, or hurt. Ready, he thought for any scene that Han Seo could have prepared for him. He was wrong.

She lay on the floor, naked, his beautiful tigress, Ha Ji. Her vibrant hair spread out around her head. A spreading pool of blood beneath her. Yet she was not dead. She always had been hard to kill. She smiled as he came in, smiled at his ashen face, at the stricken look of panic on his face. She was dying, would soon be cold and still. And Sinn Uoo felt his heart stop, miss a beat, and start to hammer. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be real.

"She's perfect." Han Seo stepped into Sinn Uoo's suddenly narrowed field of vision. "All the scars we ever made. I kissed them all to make them better. To remind her who she was. You could never know her like I could."

"You bastard, what did you do?" a hoarse whisper, seeing the knife, but not willing to believe the horror.

"A broken heart is hard to heal." Han Seo smiled, and Sinn Uoo could the blood on his lips, the vindictive, accusatory smile of a madman, "You should have known! I broke her heart, and it still bled! You could have fixed it. You could have made her well. But you wouldn't let her heal. You picked the scab and ripped out the stitches. I left her for you. and you did nothing but hurt her. I didn't give her up for that. She deserves better."

"You killed her."

"She was already dying on the inside!"

"You're insane."

"Maybe." Han Seo shrugged, "But I love her better than you. I'm willing to sacrifice anything to make her happy. To end her pain. That's why she smiles. She feels nothing now."

"You once tried to save her!" And still, Sinn Uoo could not believe.

"And now I have." Han Seo shrugged, and went to kneel by Ha Ji. She may have fought him, but this was for the best, really. He hadn't been able to take it any more. Her hurt or his own. With one swift jerk, he yanked his knife from where it had been plunged deep within her heart, and with the strength of insanity, drove it into his own.

This was his love, the only thing he could give. The end of their pain and heartache. He could feel the blood rush out, the world grow dim, as he collapsed across Ha Ji, and took her last breath with his own.

Sinn Uoo was still in shock, when Jeong Hyeop spoke again, "He always knew her better than you."

"He won?" Sinn Uoo couldn't believe it, "That's victory? Ha Ji!" She was really gone. Again. Han Seo had killed her, again. And this time, she was gone forever. No more redemption left for him.

He knelt down in their mingled pool of blood and began to cry.

Jeong Hyeop sighed, and loyal to the last, knowing what Han Seo would have wanted, reached into his pocket, pulled out his pistol, and shot Sinn Uoo in the back of the head. Han Seo would not have wanted Sinn Uoo to live, and love again, if he could not. Even if it would have meant hat Sinn Uoo wouldn't suffer for long, for what he'd done.

It was better this way. He was sure of it.

Thoughtfully, Jeong Hyeop put his gun away, took one last look at the corpses cooling on the floor, and turned away.

"I loved her too." He spoke to the air. " Almost as much as I loved you. You never knew that. You never asked." He shrugged, "You wouldn't have believed. It's better this way, I think. I never wanted to play that game." Slowly, he made he way to the door, turned the light off, and spoke one last time, "I hope it's peaceful where you are. I hope you can be happy there." But what was the point of speaking to the dead?

Jeong Hyeop slipped out, and shut the door behind him, letting it close with a snick of finality.

TBC.


	5. epilogue

**So It Goes**

Chapter 5

Revaluation

(epilogue)

_You always won, everytime you placed a bet _

_You're still damn good, no one's gotten to you yet _

_Everytime they were sure they had you caught _

_You were quicker than they thought _

_You'd just turn your back and walk _

As he walked away, loyal to the last, Jeong Hyeop contented himself with the thought that it was what Han Seo would have wanted.

After all, those that can, adapt. Those that can't, die.

You don't win by staying the same.

They were dead, but he remained. And who would tell his story when he was gone?

Who would remember it?

And who would care?

What would his story hold?

Jeong Hyeop smiled a sad soft smile. Let the loneliness come, let the tears and joy in. He'd played his role, loyal to the end, in their story. Now he was free. Free to be the star of his own life.

Jyeong Hyeop took a deep breath of the cool night air, and began to hum a little song. He had loved them, and they were gone. To him they would remain, eternal, unchanging. In his old age, perhaps, he would tell their story to his children, and it would become tragic, immortal, mythic. And they would ooh and ah. But they would remember, in the end, that he had lived. Because he hadn't played the game.

Jeong Hyeop laughed, and looked around the city. Perhaps he would get out of the family. Perhaps he would become a teacher. Perhaps he would never have to use the bloody tools of his trade again. He had dreams, and the future was waiting.

He shook his head once more, as if at the folly of dreams, or in one last moment of mourning, as he walked away into his own life.

He never looked back.

_You're still the same _

_Moving game to game _

_Some things never change _

_You're still the same_

Fin

- - -A/N: to be honest, I hated the ending of the HBW comic. Hated hated hated. Hence my version here. I found many things about the actual series to be problematic. But the ending was the worst. I firmly believe, that no good outcome could have come from that situation. Moreover, I do take some issue with the implication that in the end, Ha Ji is the villain, and that all the strife is due to her selfishness and refusal to let Han Seo go. It felt contrived to me, the way her 'stupidity' began to be revealed as a lie, when, in the very beginning, she'd been sincerely stupid, but by the end, we are asked to accept that she's always been manipulative. I don't buy it . I agree that Han Seo is a victim, but I see Sinn Uoo as being more of a bad guy than Ha Ji, or even Han Seo. But anyway. There it is. And if anyone knows what I'm talking about and wants to debate, or whatever, email curdled(dot)milk(at)gmail(dot)com. Yeah, you know what to do to make that email go, don't you? - - -


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